This Is(n't) Goodbye
by Sensible Daydreamer
Summary: Darry receives a distressing letter in the mail... and decides to take matters into his own hands. Short story, a prologue to Coming Home, something with a dash of angst and a little bit of brotherly love in there too. Rated K plus just in case. Please R&R and, as always, thanks for reading! :)
1. 1 Decisions, Decisions

_Hello! I am back again with another short story- this one is tied to my other story, but is more of a prologue, if you will. There won't be too much in this story, I just find Darrel's character very interesting and I like delving into what his life is like and how it could play out. I also love all the angsty family affairs and brotherly love kind of stuff._

 _So, here you go- a take on what Darry's thoughts were after receiving Sodapop's draft letter!_

 _XO, Sensible Daydreamer_

 _(I don't own The Outsiders)_

* * *

Decisions, Decisions

I've had that letter for the past few days and it's only now that I'm starting to feel anxious. _Sodapop sure is gonna brain you_ , I chuckle to myself. He'll hit the roof and either run away or try to do all he can to make things right; in fact, knowing him, he'll answer to the call of duty, make like it was no big deal and grin like he always does. But he won't. Well, truthfully, he can't, I'm the older brother and I'll do whatever is necessary to make sure he's safe. _Him and Ponyboy_ , my heart sinks as I think about them.

I've been sitting in the driveway of my home for at least a half hour now. It's a resolve, something I know I was just destined for, and I can't help but curse whatever greater being existed for the hand that I've been dealt. Our family has been through so much and now this.

I swear out loud and slam a fist into the steering wheel.

Soda has been drafted; in fact he's supposed to report this Sunday. That's in three days. They sure don't give you much of a notice. I foolishly think about whether I'll make it back or not. But I will. I have to. I have the best chance at surviving in Vietnam, whatever that entails, and I'm not bragging it's just a fact.

All those rumbles and wrestling matches we've had, not to mention those shooting lessons from dad, has provided me with some sort of experience in how to handle whatever it is that I'll be dealing with.

But deep down I know that it's different out there. This isn't just some silly game between three to see who could shoot the most for dinner- I was going to be shooting to live.

Shooting for my _life._

I swallow hard and shake the ringing out of my ears. The warmth of the sun has brought me back to reality. Though it sits high in the sky, I know that the day is well into the afternoon. I haven't even made a move on preparations for dinner.

Steve and Soda should be showing up soon and I know Pony and Two-Bit will be in tow; they're out celebrating the start of the summer, since that definitely calls for a celebration, and since I've been given a promotion at the construction company, the celebration will end in a barbeque, Curtis style.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I compose myself and make my way into the house, grabbing the grocery bags from the back seat and checking the mail (though I had just checked it yesterday); all the while, I try to contain my anger and organize my thoughts as best as I can. But my brain whirs at a million miles per second and that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach persists.

I'm going to have to make it up to them somehow. After all, I won't be seeing them for a long, long while.

* * *

"Wow, Darry, you're really goin' all out for dinner aint you?" Soda muses as I clean the grill. I just smirk at him. I want to smile, but ever since that letter, I've found it hard to be genuine around my brother. He doesn't notice this, which I am glad for, but Pony does and somehow that scares me more.

"Yeah, well, when was there ever a time Darry didn't go all out for dinner? The guy likes to show off, remember?" Steve retorts as he passes a football to Two-Bit. This isn't the first time anyone has ever said that to me, but for some reason it irritates me to hear it coming from him. It takes all I have not to intercept that ball and hurl it back at him full force. Soda turns around.

'Aw, you're just jealous, Stevie because Dar can cook and you can't!"

"Well, I can cook better than you!"

"Oh really?" and they're off to it again. I wonder about they're friendship and try to remember the first time I ever met Steve.

The sun is making its slow descent beneath the horizon and Pony is taking it all in on the front porch, writing something down in his journal.

Coming to an end with whatever it is that he's writing, he closes his journal and looks up, grinning good-naturedly at us. He hasn't written in it since Johnny and Dallas died.

I hope he doesn't lose that light about him. It's worth fighting for and only Soda and I see it in him. What Soda doesn't know is that he has that same light about him too. _It can't change, I won't let that change_.

Once the coals are lit, I place the burgers on the grill and keep an eye on them, listening to everyone else banter with each other.

"No way!" Soda laughs incredulously. "Hate to say it buddy, but you got yourself into that mess all by yourself!" Soda passes the ball aggressively at Steve who's now feigning shock at my brother. I roll my eyes, remembering the night that _that_ happened. Two-Bit had practically broken the door down to tell me the story. And the following morning, it was all over the newspapers: "Notorious Drug Dealers Finally Arrested thanks to Juvenile Delinquents". Of course, Soda and Steve had high tailed it out of there before they could get their names and pictures.

"Who was it that told them we were rich, Soda? Who?"

Soda bites his lip to keep from laughing, Steve glares at him, snapping back a pass.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Boy, for two junkies higher than the empire state building, they sure can move; chased me all the way down the street when I told 'em who we really were! I aint never met anyone like 'em… They might of looked high class, but they smelled like shit!"

"Hey, man, how were we supposed to know that they were drug dealers? And besides, at least we were able to get our fix!" Soda looks back and winks at me. I knew they didn't really take or abuse drugs of any sort. Because if they had, I would've been all over their asses. Yes, the both of them.

"You know, Stevie, your face is gonna become permanent if you keep glarin' like that," Two-Bit remarks nonchalantly. Pony is laughing into his fist and I can't help but smile too when Steve shoots a look of disdain at Two-Bit.

"Yeah Steve, then Evie will surely be done with you." Soda scoffs in disbelief at our brother, the two of us sharing a knowing look. Pony trespasses into dangerous territory with that comment. Steve and Evie's relationship has always been rocky, but lately it's been non-stop fighting between the two and it's taken quite a toll on Steve.

I sigh inwardly at my brother's poor timing for jokes, still grinning because though this sometimes proves to be his demise, it is also funny.

Two-Bit's laugh echoes throughout the lot as Steve drops the ball and chases my brother off the porch. Soda screeches enthusiastically and cheers for our brother as he effortlessly outruns Steve; Ponyboy even finds time to spin around and flip him a couple of birds whilst sticking his tongue out.

Flipping the burgers over, I take the chance to rethink over my plan. Along with doing some extra grocery shopping this morning I had driven to a building downtown where the Military Entrance Processing Station was supposedly located. There I explained my situation and after much arguing and pushing, I had persuaded them to change out Soda's name and face for mine, noting for it to be a malfunction when it was pulled during the lottery.

"You look older for 18, but I guess that doesn't matter," the man said stiffly after having me fill out some paperwork. He then explained to me all the risks that came with my request as well as the process for check-in on Sunday. I barely registered any of the information, though, since I was still shocked that I had succeeded in my mission. I guess they didn't care as long as someone was going…

"Dar, heads up!" Someone's voice cuts into my thoughts and I bring my hand up just in time to catch the ball, which was close to beheading me. I shoot a glare at Two-Bit as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

"Sorry Superman, I was aimin' for the kid!" He stutters pointing at Pony who is nowhere near me. I'm not impressed. Pony just puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head ruefully.

"You know, Two-Bit, sometimes I wonder what we keep you around for…" I mutter, throwing the ball as far past my friend as I possibly could. I smirk as everyone's eyes follow the ball in amazement.

"Aw, c'mon Darry, that's not fair…" Two-Bit pouts as it whizzes past a couple houses and disappears into the trees on the edge of the lot. Steve whistles long and low. Soda and Pony clap in unison.

"Well, go and get it Two-Bit- you're the one who pissed him off, so you can be the one to fetch the ball," Steve says pointedly. Pony makes his way over to me as I flip the last of the burgers.

"Hey Darry can I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure thing, kiddo."

"Is everything alright?" I am startled not only by his bluntness but that he would ask me this. He's never voiced his concern for me, not that I've wanted him to, but he doesn't need to. He should know that. I look at him unsure about what he's getting at. I hope it has nothing to do with how I've been around Soda.

I keep an impassive face.

"Yeah everything's fine… why do you ask?" Pony shrugs and fiddles around with the plate that I've brought out to put the burgers on. He avoids eye contact; something that never sits well with me.

"You just seem to be actin' real strange lately, that's all," he says quietly. _Don't you worry about it, kiddo_ , I think to myself. I smile and ruffle his hair.

"What do you expect? Now I gotta deal with having all of you in the house at the same time!" I try to joke with him. He smiles, but I can see he's not convinced. Pony's smart, I wouldn't expect anything less, but for right now I really wish he'd just drop the subject.

"Yeah, but Dar-" Pony is suddenly tackled to the ground by Soda and a wrestling match ensues at my feet.

"Agh! Soda?! Stop!" Pony struggles but is quick to match Soda's strength after realizing this wasn't going to end anytime soon; Soda just laughs.

"Hey, watch it! I swear, if you knock this grill over— get outta here!" I yell at them, shooing them away from the food. Two-Bit, who still has yet to retrieve the football from the forest, plays ref between my brothers as Steve critiques Soda's methods.

Knowing what's about to come I quickly shovel the burgers onto the plate and swing around before Soda slams Pony's arm down, subsequently knocking the grill over in the process.

That ended their juvenile antics real quick.

"Oops!" Soda says out of breath as he starts gets up. I cross my arms disapprovingly. Steve snickers as my brother's face flushes with embarrassment.

"Sorry Dar!"

Ponyboy takes this advantage and tackles Soda to the ground. The screeching continues as I heave an exasperated sigh and put the grill in its upright position.

I can't help but to feel happy; I realize that I needed to memorize every detail about this moment. As stupid as they could get, it was what made them one of a kind. I was going to need this later.

That's when I spot Pony's journal on the porch and an idea pops up in my head.

* * *

It's late and everyone's passed out somewhere in our house. Steve and Soda occupy the furniture in our living room while Two-Bit has made his stay on the floor in the hallway; how he finds this comfortable is beyond me. I was able to guide a sleepy Ponyboy back to his room before he knocked out on his bed. Though it was a rare feat, I didn't really expect anything less after Two-Bit had broken out the beers.

I've just finished cleaning up all the trash and beer cans, careful not to arouse anyone, though I highly doubt that they heard much of anything. Settling into a chair at the kitchen table I rub my eyes and listen to the silence of my own home. I wonder about the days I have left with them.

 _Should I tell them?_ The thought is brief but I shake my head in respite. No. I'm not telling them. That would only scare them, not to mention Soda would blow a gasket.

 _And just disappearing wouldn't?_

I rub my brow in frustration. Needing something to distract me I go and pull an old composition out of my dresser. Seeing Pony write in his journal has sparked my interest.

A letter.

That was how I was going to break the news to them. It seemed ridiculous and selfish but it was the only way I would ever be able to explain it to them without having the world explode. Well, without having it explode in my presence, anyway.

I guess I would write to Ponyboy first, since I had no idea how I could ever explain it to Sodapop.

I think for a second about what to say to my youngest brother, and then begin to write. Though I originally thought to write a letter to my brothers, I am quickly carried away in my thoughts and end up writing ones for Steve and Two-Bit also.

By the time I am finished writing it is sometime after four in the morning. The next four hours are the worst four hours of sleep I have ever had.


	2. 2 Responsibilities

_Oh boy, oh boy, you guys! I'm too anxious… So here's the second chapter, I'm posting early. Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving and didn't get killed during Black Friday!_

 _XO, Sensible Daydreamer_

* * *

Responsibilities

It is Saturday night. The house is eerily silent; the only sound that I hear is running water as I wash down the dishes. There a few contributing factors as to why that would be- but the main reason is that the ones who are usually here are all off doing their own thing. Well, all except for Ponyboy. My poor brother had gone to bed early claiming that he did not feel well and because of that I am uneasy; no one in our family ever fares well with sickness, least of all Ponyboy.

Despite this, Sodapop is out late again. He's been doing that lately, going out and staying out late and I vaguely wonder if it's because he's found a new girlfriend. Boy, that would really be something if it were the case. Or maybe it's because I've been constantly nagging on him and Ponyboy (but mostly him) to get things done- something I haven't done since before Johnny and Dallas died. I guess I did that because I was worried he wouldn't fare well once I had left. And also because I wanted him to stay near me in the time that I had left at home.

Realizing that I've got less than twenty-four hours with him and Ponyboy breaks my heart. And even though I wrote him that letter, I can't shake the responsibility that I have to give him an explanation- face to face.

I was careful on my day off to not draw any attention to myself. In fact, I had told my brothers that I had been called in to work for another shift.

"But Dar that's the third time this month that they've called you in on your day off," Pony says distastefully. Soda nods in solemn agreement.

"Once, just once, they couldn't have cut you some slack? You're a manager for crying out loud…" Soda murmurs. Having my brothers very sufficiently involved in my life is strange and albeit humorous. Had this been a different situation, I would've agreed.

"No, no I forgot to finish up some paperwork that should've been done yesterday. Besides it means more money and we could definitely use some right now," I stated gruffly, ending the conversation. I even drove the truck out around the neighborhood to kill some time.

Making sure it was a day that everyone would be out- Pony to the library and Soda to work- I had spent it packing and re-reading the letters. I didn't want to miss anything.

I am running over the checklist in my head again when I hear the clatter of our screen door closing.

"Dar?"

"In the kitchen, Sodapop." Soda swaggers in and shoots me a smile as he opens the fridge.

"We out of chocolate milk again?" He says incredulously. I chuckle.

"Yes and we wouldn't be if you didn't drink so much." I dry my hands with a towel and watch him as he rummages through the scarce selection of food in our refrigerator. It was weird, but I wanted to get a good look at him. The way he moved and that big grin of his. I had done this with Pony one night when he was reading a book and I could feel the ache that would soon haunt me while I am away.

Soda turns and catches me staring at him. He gives me a strange look.

"What?"

"Nothin'." I turn to reset the towel where it had once been.

"No, Darry what is it?" I stay silent, but he continues. "You know, Pony says that he thinks something's up and even though it's probably nothin', I just can't help but feel the same way…" I give a start when he tells me about Ponyboy (damn this kid for being so observant), but as he talks he does so slowly which leads me to believe that he's only saying this because Pony had brought it up.

"No, no it's nothing Sodapop, don't worry about it." But I know as soon as I've said this I have made a mistake. Soda narrows his eyes, catching it instantly.

"So there is something going on."

"No, there isn't. That's not what I meant-"

"Then what did you mean, Darry? Hell, you have been acting weird for the past few days." I try to think of what to say when Soda suddenly straightens out and says, "And don't think I don't know about today."

And he says he isn't smart. Somebody ought to give him a medal.

"What about today?"

"I went to visit you at work and your boss said you weren't working today, that it was your day off. He acted like I was the dumbest person on the planet." Soda says this in a bitter tone and it is here that I know this conversation isn't going to end well.

My head begins to hurt as I come to the conclusion that the letter isn't going to be enough. It would never be enough.

I exhale slowly.

"So where were you?"

"Look, Soda, I'm sorry I lied about today. But there was a good reason for it and right now may not be the best time to tell you that reason." I word it carefully, gauging how much information I give based on Soda's reaction. His face scrunches up in confusion.

"What reason? Dar, you got some sick obsession that I don't know about?"

"What!? No."

"A girlfriend?"

" _No_ Sodapop. You're being ridiculous."

"Then what is it!? 'Cause you aint makin' any sense, and I'm gettin' tired of you beating around the bushes; you hate it when Pony or I do this to you so just spill it!" Soda points his finger at me. I look off to the side and notice our family portrait on the kitchen table. I randomly think about my parents and wonder what they'd say. _They wouldn't want you to go, that's for sure._

Looking back at my brother, I keep my voice even.

"I'm leaving, Sodapop. I'm going somewhere, somewhere you and Pony can't go, and I have to go alone." Soda starts at this.

"What? Where?"

"I won't be gone for too long-"

"Darry where are you going?"

"-It really is just a matter of time-"

Soda slams a hand down on the counter. "Damn it Darry where the hell are you going?!"

"Vietnam!" I shout. The house settles as Soda sags against the countertop. His face has gone pale and he suddenly looks scared. I cuss inwardly at myself for going against what I had planned.

Stepping out into the hallway I go to check and make sure Pony isn't awake; come to think of it, I had given him enough cold medicine to knock him out into the next century. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find him asleep and breathing evenly.

"W-what?" Soda stutters softly. I turn to face him as I close Pony's bedroom door and take him by the shoulders, leading him back to the living room; he looks like he's going to keel over.

"Soda I'm sorry you had to find out this way…"

"Vietnam? As in the w-war?"

We stop once we reach the living room, my grip on him slackening.

"Yes."

"B-but I don't understand… You're safe, you're supposed to be safe!"

"Listen, I know you're confused but it'll be okay, I'm gonna be fine." I say quietly. Soda shakes his head furiously.

"No! CPS said that you were safe! That we were all supposed to be safe!" He shakes me loose and starts for the telephone. "We gotta call 'em, Dar, maybe if we call them they'll-"

I grab him and spin him around. "Sodapop you need to calm down."

"NO! You can't just tell me something like that and expect me to be calm!" Soda repeatedly wipes his hand across his face; his breathing verges on hyperventilation.

By instinct I grab my brother by the wrists and lower his hands away from his face, stilling him. We're not going to make any progress if he passes out on me.

"Sodapop, I need you to listen to me. Everything's gonna be fine. _I'm_ gonna be just fine." Tears roll down his face but he listens quietly. "Right now, Pony's sick and I need you to take care of him. Make sure he does what he needs to do, be where he needs to be; I aint gonna be around to help him with certain things so I need you to be responsible while I'm away. We both know you lack in this department." I smile as this elicits some laughter from him. I let go of him and let him collect his thoughts.

"How am I supposed to take care of everything while you're away? What if something happens? You're his legal guardian, not me." I scratch the back of my head and laugh uneasily. The lie continues to unravel.

"Well, it wasn't easy, but I was able to make arrangements to have you granted full guardianship over Ponyboy alongside me." I explain. Soda looks at me like I've just betrayed him.

"Just how long have you known about this?" I don't get upset over his harsh tone because he has every right to be mad at me- the reasons why are just different than the ones he currently believes.

"Long enough. And I know I've said this frequently but I'm sorry. To tell you the truth I wasn't going to tell you at all." Soda groans in frustration and then sits on the couch. He doesn't say anything more so I decide to shift gears.

"The information for everything you need- social security, birth certificates, licenses, proof of guardianship- it's all in that same folder that we've been using. I put it in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I've also left my work I.D. in there as well, you'll need it to pick up my last paycheck and that comes in next Wednesday. Mac says that you should be fine picking it up for me, but please just take it anyway." I pause to think. "Oh and don't forget to remind Ponyboy that he needs to finish the last of his college essays and mail them before Friday."

"He's gonna be real upset once I tell him."

"No he won't, It's just a couple of grammatical errors-"

"That's not what I'm talking about, Darry!" Soda seethes, and I recall the cause for this discussion.

"I know. But there's nothing we can do about it now."

Soda sighs deeply, hanging his head. There's another long pause as the silence rings throughout the room. I begin to worry about him.

"Sodapop?"

He suddenly looks up at me. "I'm scared, Dar."

I nod slowly. "Yeah, me too. But you can do it, I know you can."

Soda only stares at the carpet, so I squeeze his shoulder and turn to go when he says, "I promise to be responsible, but you gotta promise me you'll come back."

I turn back around and look my brother straight in the eye.

"Little buddy, there aint nothing that can keep me from coming back."


	3. 3 This Is(n't) Goodbye

This Is(n't) Goodbye

Though the skies are still dark, my suitcase is already stationed by our front door and I am holding onto the letters I have written.

Soda and I had spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything ranging from our parents death to Ponyboy's 12th birthday- it was a day we wouldn't ever forget because Two-Bit had blown up his birthday cake. It got over everything in the room resulting in irritated friends, angry parents, and an overjoyed birthday boy.

"Ha! I'll never forget Mom's face… She was ready to murder him. Something you clearly get from her, Dar." Soda says, laughing. I couldn't help but laugh myself. It was true.

We continued talking like that for what seemed like forever.

Getting nostalgic wasn't a wise decision; I am already missing him and Pony. But I am unwilling to break under all this emotional stress, so I push these feelings aside and try to distract myself by walking aimlessly around the house.

I repeatedly glance at my watch, wishing foolishly for time to speed up but wanting it to stop and stand still. I have about an hour before I leave for the Training station to receive my instructions. I was originally going to catch a bus there, but after talking it over with Soda, we've decided that he will drive me there and drop me off. The only condition was that he fall asleep and get some rest for the drive out.

Consequently, Soda has been asleep for the past couple of hours while I've been busying myself with my own thoughts of worry and fear.

As much as I would like to believe that I could make it out of Vietnam alive, I've seen way too many men- boys- leave and never return; boys with better builds and more to live for. Boys not much older than Sodapop and not much younger than me.

My blood runs cold at the thought of dying young. And for the first time since before my parents died that was exactly what I saw myself as. Young.

I walk into the kitchen and down a glass of water, willing myself to defy these thoughts. _I will come back,_ I think to myself repeatedly. _I will come back and everything will be like it used to be._ But my exhaustion amplifies the worst of my thinking. I am still not convinced; not in the slightest.

Groggily, I make my way over to my room to see if Soda is awake.

I smile when I see my brother sprawled across my bed. Remembering how much his all-over-the-place sleeping positions had irritated me when we had once shared a bed I roll my eyes and sit, leaning over him.

"Sodapop," I whisper, gently shaking him. "Soda wake up. You were the one who said you wanted to drive me, remember?" My words fall on deaf ears and Soda stays as he is, still in a deep sleep. I stare at him. He looks so damn young.

I wish very much that I could stay.

A huge part of me is screaming for me not to go, and though I am afraid of what may happen while I'm away, there is nothing worse than having one of my brothers being over there instead of me. Out of all the horrible options I had, this was the best one.

Knowing all too well that any attempt I would make at waking him would fail, I gently push Soda's hair back and kiss him on the top of his head.

"Take care of yourself, you hear me? You're smarter than you give yourself credit for and don't you ever doubt that. Be responsible and make good decisions… I'll be back before you know it. I promise." I whisper.

As I get up off the bed and head into the hallway, I stop in the doorframe and steal one last look at my brother.

"I love you Sodapop."

And with that I head to Pony's room.

* * *

Ponyboy is still and if I had been anyone else I would've thought it was Sodapop beneath those covers. They look so much alike it's uncanny.

I carefully sit on the edge of the bed and place the back of my hand against his forehead. _Not as bad as yesterday, but still warm_ I make a mental note of it. Soda knows what to do, and once he wakes up he'll take care of him.

Exhaling slowly, I brush Pony's hair away from his face and am about to say my goodbyes when his eyes flutter open.

"Darry?" He croaks. My heart practically skips a beat but I manage a smile and try to hide my panic as best as I can.

"Hey kiddo, how ya feelin'?" Pony looks at me funny and shifts his weight to face me more.

"Was I yellin'?"

"No, Pony."

"Did _you_ have a bad dream?" He asks. _He's definitely out of it_. I just chuckle to myself and shake my head.

"No, no. I just came in here to check up on you that's all."

"Oh." He yawns and blinks, looking at the window and then back at me. "You going somewhere?" I always wonder why he asks so many questions when he becomes ill.

"Yeah, but I'll be back soon." Though it isn't the whole truth, I don't have the heart to completely lie to him either, especially after what had gone down with Soda.

"Hmmm… kay…" I almost breathe a sigh of relief when he closes his eyes and falls back asleep. I wait until his breathing is even before I lean over him and kiss the top of his head.

"Be good Pony. Be safe." I whisper so softly that even I could barely hear myself

Sitting upright on the bed I watch for a few more moments and think about him. I think about how long I could potentially be away, which included an eternity if I were to die. Then I turn to my littlest brother.

"I love you Ponyboy. Don't ever forget that, okay?"

As I get up to go, I freeze at the sound of Pony shifting in his bed.

"Love you too Darry…"

It was soft and mumbled and even though I know he won't remember any of this I can't help but feel my chest constrict. Leaving the letter I wrote him on his nightstand, I exit swiftly and silently close his door.

Pulling on my coat I check my watch again and remember that if I walk now I can get there just in time to catch the next bus. I dust off my sleeves and grab up my bags, pulling the keys out of the door lock and dropping them onto the coffee table along with the rest of the letters.

Turning around, I take it all in one more time. This was the last time I would be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. The last time I would be in the same country- on the same continent- as my brothers.

I close my eyes and remember every detail of our house vividly. Tucking that memory deep in my heart I turn and walk out, closing the door behind me.

I suddenly realize that I never said the word 'goodbye' and while taking in the place that I learned to call home, I suddenly remembered why that was.

I was going to be okay because my brothers were always with me. I am strong and I will make it back.

This isn't goodbye. I promised.

And I never go back on my promises.

* * *

 _Thank you guys so much for reading, it really means a lot to me! On to the next story, and, as always, please review!_

 _XO, Sensible Daydreamer_


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